


No Smoking Please!

by elstar1



Category: SECHSKIES (Band)
Genre: Forced Masturbation, Other, Possession, Sasaeng Fan(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elstar1/pseuds/elstar1
Summary: Kang Sunghoon, please quit smoking!Fans' love could be such a great motivation for an idol to quit smoking, but this is new.WIll it work?*Slight mention of the case, but honestly, just to get the plot going*





	No Smoking Please!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ruby (kidding about the sasaeng tag btw), but yeah, basically an excuse to write Hoony in this predicament.  
> I don't have guy parts so, I don't know what the heck I was writing about.

Sunghoon opens his eyes, blinking several times as he’s adjusting to the morning light. He sits up and stretches his body a few times, before plopping back on the bed, grabbing his phone. He begins the day by scrolling through his SNS and fancafe, holding back from posting anything, as he knows the right thing to do at this moment is to lay low.

After several minutes of browsing the net, he thoughtlessly reaches for his bedside table without looking, his fingers scrabbling around for his cigarette, a routine of his mornings.  
Just as he’s about to grab the tin case, suddenly his right hand lets go.

Surprised, he tries again, but this time, his hand pulls back to his body. Hoony sits back up, scanning his hand carefully. There’s nothing unusual with it. Just his pale, veiny hand. However, as he slowly extends his hand to the table, it jolted back strongly, and he finds himself unable to move BOTH of his hands. Instead of the cigs, the hands eagerly trail down his body. Hoony swears he had seen this scene somewhere before, maybe The Evil Dead 2, when Ash’s hand became alien to him, possessed by some supernatural force.

He yelps when his right hand suddenly pats his private part. He struggles to stand up, but his left hand keeps holding on tight to the bed, gluing him there. He inhales to steady himself, and that’s when his hand starts rubbing his half-erected morning wood.  
“What the??” He really wants to stop, but his other hand slides underneath his t-shirt, softly caressing his abs, chest then nipples. In the meantime, his right hand makes its way into the slit of his boxer, stroking the full length of the part inside.

Hoony’s breathes raggedly, as his mind becomes blurry, not sure of what is happening. All he knows is he’s at the edge and in need of a release. His (but not his) hands are on his lower part, working on him vigorously, until he finally comes with a deep grunt, spraying sticky fluid over his stomach. He lays on his back, taking several minutes to come down from the high, and trying to piece together what the heck just happened. Had he been starving for too long now that his body took action by itself?

His train of thought is halted by the notification alert on his phone. Carefully, he takes his phone, noticing that he has full control of his hands back. It’s a message from his manager, telling him to get ready to be picked up. He has a meeting with the lawyer team in an hour, and he should be getting ready for that now. Judging by the mess he just made, he does not have much time.

The meeting was exhausting and tiring. Hoony is so tired of having to repeat the same story over and over again. He has been doing this for two months now. Going over the chronological timeline and receipts, checking his past schedules and such. So when the head lawyer finally wraps up, he’s elated. Especially that now things are looking good for him. Feeling better, he asks the manager to drive him to a bbq restaurant. He’s looking forward for at least two servings of meat.

After ordering, they sit down, pouring some soju and having some side dishes. His manager takes out a pack of cigarettes, politely offering Hoony for a smoke. Hoony is not a heavy smoker, but attending the long discussion definitely warrants him one. Just as he’s about to take out one, his hand suddenly throws the box on the table, startling the manager and several nearby customers. Sweats prickle on Hoony’s forehead, as his hands fall limp to his side. Hoony slowly raises both his hands, observing them.  
‘Good, I’m in control,’ he breathes a sigh of relief.  
“H...hyung? You don’t want to smoke?” The manager asks, clearly puzzled by Hoony’s action. He’s still holding up the pack of cigarette, not sure whether to stick it out or pull it back.  
“Haha, no... I do, please give me one,” Hoony assures him with a bright smile.  
The manager takes out a stick, handing it on Hoony’s open palm.  
Right at that moment, Hoony tosses away the stick.  
Both of them hung their mouth open at that. Hoony tries to resist, but his hand start to make way to the front of his pants. Realizing what is about to happen, he hurriedly excuses himself to the restroom, scuttling into a stall.

He barely made it inside when his left hand unzip his pants, haphazardly groping his flaccid member. Again he tries to fight it, but his left hand grips him hard, forcing a painful cry out of him. Frightened, he sits on the toilet, letting the hands touches him, that he could not help himself from growing hard. Even though he bites his lips to keep quiet, soft moans still escape him that he grows worried someone outside might hear him. Desperate, he buries his face on his shoulder to muffle the sound. As he shuts his eyes, his lips suddenly is poked by his right hand. His fingers, slicked in precum, tries to forcibly make their way into his mouth. He opens his mouth to give entrance to avoid being hurt. One finger is slid in, and he sucks onto it reluctantly. Then another finger is shoved in, and another that his mouth is now filled with three fingers. Wet smacking sound fills up the area, but Hoony could not care less about it, when he is now being violated by both of his hands in the mouth and on his genital.

After he finally finished, Hoony slumps over the toilet, totally spent. He’s not young anymore and masturbating twice in a day is taking a toll on him. He returns to the table after fixing his clothes and cleaning up the best his could. He makes an excuse that his stomach was acting up, hence the long trip to the toilet. He quickly devours the meal, to shut the topic down and also because he’s famished. Upon returning, he barely cleans up his face before crashing to sleep.

The next morning, Hoony wakes up, not sure of whether he dreamt the whole thing. Body part possession? That just sounds so ridiculous.  
Still, the fatigue he felt last night was not a dream. He mulls over the details of the occurrences, both time happened when cigarettes are involved. He wants to test the theory, but could not find the courage for it. So he holds out for an hour or so, before finally sets his mind to do it.

Hoony stares intently on the box on the table. He hypes himself up, before boldly swiping the box off the table. He pauses.  
There’s nothing happening. His hands are still in his control. Still wary, he slowly takes out one stick and puts it in his mouth.  
Nothing.  
“It must have been the stress,” he heaves a sigh of relief.  
He’s about to rise up from the bed when suddenly one of his hand snatches the cig and throws it off. Stunned by the turn of event, Hoony was not prepared when the hands now tears away at his boxer, literally ripping it apart.

The left hand pulls the silk sheet under him, bundling the soft and smooth cloth around his groin. His hands begin lightly push and pull the soft cloth between his thigh, slightly tickling his underside. The friction of the cloth against his skin sends shiver across his spine, and soon, the hands pick up pace in working him up restlessly.

He’s breathing begins to labour and his back is arched as he could feel he is close, but immediately, his left hand grabs his base, aborting the impending release. Hoony curls his toes, aching over the feeling of being on edge then gets pulled back.

Just as he calms down, his left hand grabs his cock, still lubed up with his precums, forcing it through between the index and middle fingers of his other hand. Hoony is shookt and it does not take long for him to be swept by the tight feeling, as he is still sensitive from the previous sensation.  
And again, the stroking is stopped just as he’s about to come, leaving him so frustrated.

At this point, he could only think of one thing.  
The hands know! A sentient being themselves, they knows what he’s thinking and planning, and because of him trying to taunt them, he’s getting punished.

“Okay, okay, I promise I will quit smoking!” He pleads to the thin air, unable to bear the prolonged torture of delayed gratification. After some more teasing and a whole lot of begging and promises, finally, he is allowed to come. His mind melts into white noise, as he thoroughly lets go of himself after being denied of it for so long.

After cleaning himself up, he immediately goes out to the store, stocking up on some nicotine gums and patch, determined to put an end to his misery.

But you know how when you try so hard to forget about something, you keep thinking about it more? That’s how it goes for Sunghoon. He’s focusing on not thinking of cigarette so much that he craves it more. Things are harder ;) since he has no schedule and is stressed, so he tends to impulsively try to sneak a puff. His hands will then rebel by touching himself, breaching his sensitive parts and rendering him helpless. It has even gotten to the point where even when a cigarette advertisement is shown, the assault will be triggered.

Hoony could not take it anymore, he has been drained so much over the days and finding out there are so many ways to masturbate that this needs to stop. He’s scared that that would be his Pavlovian response to smoking. That he would have the urge to touch himself every time cigarette, smoking, tobacco, nicotine and so on comes up, especially when that will inevitably happen in public. Thus, he tries his best to remember when did the strange occurrence begins. He go through the day before he met with the lawyers.

_“Hyung, here are the letters from fans all around the world. This starts from the announcement on Twitter, about how fans could write to you to show their support.” The manager dragged two sacks of letters triumphantly, placing them inside Hoony’s room._  
_Hoony was genuinely touched, that his fans still believe in him, and are showing their supports through the handwritten letters, which is no easy feat especially for foreign fans, what’s with the expensive shipment and such. He went through the letters one by one, carefully reading each line, taking in the affection expressed in the letters._

He suddenly recalls one odd letter. Hoony fumbles around his room, looking for that pink envelope with a flower seal. He finally found it in the pile of letters.

_Oppa, I hope you will stop smoking. It’s bad for your health and voice. Please take care of yourself so you could be with us in a long time._

_B̒̂̓̀̽̍ͪý ͒̓tͣh̓ͯ̾̆ͦͯ͊ê̊̉̔̀ ̇̑̀w͋͊̌͆̆̅ay ͐H̐̃͒̏ͧoͪ̍ͮ͒̆ͪ̚õ̐̃̐̋̚nͦ͑̍͗͋yͭͮ̓̊-ͦŏpͫ̋͂ͣpaͫͮ̀̏ͫ̂,͂͊̆͆ ̑ͬIͣ̉ͪ̂ͯͯ̚ ͪͪȑé͌ͨ͐ͨa̒̔̄̽l̓ͨͥ͐l̇̃y͂ͧ̊ ͮͯͦl̎̊̎o͊̈̀͛́v͑ͥͪe̓ͦͩ͊ͯ ͫ͆ě́v̋͑͂er̀̄y ͣ̒ͥ͊͒̐b͂ͭͥ͊̌͂̅i̿̆ͩͧt̑͑̔͐̚s͒̓̑̾ͤ ̄̿́̒o͑̏͆f͛̔͛̚ ̓ͮ̓̓y̔o͛̈́u̿̎.̉͌͛͌̀͑ ̂I͗ͥ̇ͩͩͮ͋ ͩͤ̃̑̀̿̈w̽͑̐̊͆̚̚a̿̏ͩ̓n̾t ̄ͬ̌̓tỏ͋̍ͪ̿ͭ b͆ͬ̽ͪͪ̀̓eͭ̂ͣ͛̇͌͋ ͮ̆y͒̈́̈́̿oͪ̋̆u̅̋̒̾͂rͦ͊͊͊ ̾̋ͤ͋hͦ̏͑̂̀ͩͭa̅n͊̚d̊͂̀̅̑̓ͯs͑̾͂̿͗~~ͧ͑ͩ_  
_*ͮ̋ͮ̔̾̆̑jͣͪ̌̔̾ͬ̄ǘͯͨͬ́̎ͪsͥt ḱͨ͛̐̍͗͌i̿̈ͧ͐̈̄̄d̋͆ͥͭ̓ͮ̽d́͐iͤng*ͭͩ̇ͧ̈_  
_̈ͦ̊ͤ̉*͊̏̉̋ͥ̓͋aͯ͛m ̈̏̒̄ͩ̊̽Iͯ̓ͤ̽͐?̈͋̿ͧ̿̍̾*̏ͬ̓͗͐ͥ_  
_͂̍̌͆ͨ̅̐Ruby_

Hoony has goosebumps on his back. The two things mentioned on the letter are directly related to what’s plaguing him all this while. He nervously launches the internet on his phone, typing “How to stop a curse sent by letter”.

His search brings him to a webpage claiming to be the real Wicca deal. At this point he’ll take anything as long as he can stop getting jerked off unwillingly by his hands. The page said that he needs to dip the letter in water infused with peppermint and lavender oils and then leave it to dry. He’s also required to chant some spells and the ritual must be conducted for three days consecutively. Luckily, he always have those essential oils stocked up so he hastily begins to perform the exorcism(?).

For the next three days, Hoony braces himself to undergo his nicotine withdrawal and performs the ritual. Deep down he knows that the fan meant well, for him to take better care of himself, and for him to quit smoking like he promised to. The website even stated that sometimes a person casts a curse unknowingly, as they write the words by pouring all their attention and feelings in them, and written words hold strange power beyond our understanding.

 _One month later, outside of YG building_  
“Hoony-yah, long time no see!” Hoony turns around to the familiar voice calling him.  
He sees the person he missed a lot, standing there with a soft smile and a dreamy expression, as if he could not believe he is seeing Hoony in person.

“Jiwon-hyung, missed you too~” Hoony whispers as Jiwon hugs him tightly. Tears are welling up in his eyes.

His name is finally cleared up, and he’s finally able to do what he loves the most, singing. Though he kept in contact with the members, he rarely got to meet Jiwon as he was busy with his packed schedule. So understandably, they both got overwhelmed over finally meeting each other after such a long time. They have some idle chat, just to catch up on anything new.

As they are talking, Hoony could not help but notice Jiwon fishing around in his coat’s pocket.  
“What are you looking for hyung?” He asked.  
“Just this, have one,” Jiwon grins and hands over a stick of cigarette to him.  
Hoony’s face grows red as goosebumps are forming at the back of his neck.

THE END


End file.
